I was diagnosed with Autism when I was eight. At that time, not many people really understood what autism was actually capable of, just that it made learning and communicating a lot more difficult.
I guess you could say I have what is considered “high-functioning” autism, where I’m able to talk and verbally communicate with others, but social ques and learning patterns were a bit harder for me.
My mother first became aware of my condition when she started seeing my reactions to thunderstorms. I think a lot of people wondered how she didn’t notice something sooner, but being her first kid at that point, I wouldn’t have put it past her to see all my quirks as just your average kid being weird.
However, around the age of six or seven (I honestly can’t remember), she noticed that I would grow pale at the mere sound of thunder. Any loud sounds really. I remember her wanting to take me to see a movie but she wasn’t able to get me ear plugs to keep me from getting scared of the loud sound systems the theater used.
When I was eight and diagnosed, my doctor recommended her a drug called Olanzapine, a drug commonly referred to schizophrenia patients to assist with their own mental disorders. Again, this was at a time when Autism wasn’t exactly well known.
The drug did seem to help me keep calm and focus a bit more when it came to schoolwork, but it didn’t seem to be doing anything whenever it stormed. My mother had confronted the doctor about the issue, but all he recommended I do is take more.
My mother started to suffer because of my therapy and medication needs. She got a second job when I was nine to help save up more money to help me. I think she said that she wanted to move to a place further south where the thunderstorms weren’t so common.
One night, not long after my tenth birthday, she was scheduled to work a night shift in town. The place she worked at didn’t have a day care or a place she could sit me in while she worked, so that night, she had me walk home from school. When I got home, there was a $20 for Pizza and a couple movies I had begged her to get for me. It was shaping up to be a good night.
Yet, when I turned on the TV, two things stuck out at me.
One, the weather report said that it was going to be stormy that night.
Two, the likelihood of a power outage was pretty high.
Nervously, I sat down and began to think in my head about how I would do this. I needed to order the Pizza before the power went out (can’t very well order anything if the power is out, can you?). I also decided that it would likely be a good idea to start watching the movie to distract myself from what was about to happen. I mean, it was an action movie! I could try to convince myself that the thunder was just Rambo lobbing a grenade at some poor terrorists or something…right?
About an two hours later, it had gotten incredibly dark out. The movie had just started rolling the credits when the thunder jolted me back into reality. Looking outside, I could see the daylight fading and the rain drops beginning to pour onto the ground outside. Taking a deep breath, I walked into the kitchen, grabbed myself a coke and my pills, and quickly downed a couple in a bid to help me keep calm.
I put the second movie in. This one was a movie about the Transformers. Yeah, I’m still mad about Optimus, but that’s beside the point.
About 45 minutes into the film, the power began to flicker. While Hot Rod and the Dinobots were getting their shit kicked in by Galvatron, I was sat there with my anxiety beginning to overtake my rational thought. I took a deep breath and went to grab my little Bumblebee figure to help keep me comfortable, but just as I entered the foyer in the entrance of the house, thunder boomed, knocking out the lights in the house.
Feeling my way to the front door to see if the lights were off for everyone, I finally found my way there. Opening the door, I saw the wind and rain continue to pelt the trees and street outside. I saw the distinct lights of a car coming up my road and for a moment I thought it was my mom coming home. But as the car drove by, I looked across the street and saw…it.
Standing in the shadows, illuminated only by the lightning, was a tall, dark figure. I wouldn’t have noticed him had it not been for the lightning lighting up his silhouette. I stood there in shock and intrigue, momentarily distracted by who I saw, when he disappeared. I shook my head, thinking my imagination must have been screwing with me. I closed the door and the thunder brought me back to focus.
The first thing I needed to find was a flashlight. Remembering that there was one in my bedroom just for this reason, I felt my way around the house until I found my room. My eyes began to adjust to the darkness. I started to realize that the shadows around me seemed to be closing in, but I shook my head and focused on the flashlight. Finding it on my nightstand, I turned it on. What I saw still haunts my nightmares to this day.
Standing outside my window was my mother, covered in blood, her eyes torn out, her mouth agape as if screaming. She was being held up by something clad in dark clothing. At that moment, lightning flashed and suddenly everything I saw disappeared, leaving me looking at the tire swing twisting in the wind as it hung from my tree. Taking a deep breath, I started to wonder why I kept seeing these things. None of it was logical.
That’s when I heard the door open.
I crept into the hallway, still darkened from the power outage, and saw the figure walking past me into the living room…my mother’s body being drug behind them. I heard my mother’s voice calling out for me. I knew it wasn’t my mother, and I kept to the shadows, watching in fear as the indistinguishable figure continued to explore my house. It seemed to jump to disappear with every flash of lightning, reappearing when the thunder would hit.
At that point, I believed that what I saw was actually real, despite feeling there was no logical way any of it being possible. As the voice crept closer to where I was at, I slowly walked into the kitchen and grabbed a knife to protect myself. Avoiding the figure, I backed up into my bedroom. As I slipped into the room, a floorboard creaked. In silence I stopped moving. Lightning flashed in the front room, letting me see its shadow looking towards my room painted on the hallway walls. Quickly, I got into my closet and held my knife to my chest.
My mother’s voice called out in the hallway, asking me where I was at. The figure had somehow figured out how to make her voice sound concerned. “Daniel, where are you? Come out for mommy please!”
I stayed put in my closet, doing my absolute best to keep quiet. I waited on every silent breath and nearly screamed when I heard the floorboard in front of my closet door creak. Suddenly, it was torn open, revealing to me another view of my mother’s corpse. It stood directly in the opening, preventing my escape. Before I could think, it lunged at me. At that moment I quickly took my knife and drove it in to the figure, stabbing repeatedly. I could feel the warm blood trickle down on top of me. The weight of the corpse held me down as I screamed. The power came back on and the figure was gone. At that point I passed out.
I was told afterward what happened. A friend of my mother’s had come by the house to check up on us following the storm. Apparently, the storm had done a lot of damage in other neighborhoods. When she arrived at the house and found the door open, she walked in and eventually found us.
There was no figure.
My mother had died from being stabbed.
I had suffered a hallucination from taking too much Olanzapine.
It was me.